


Caught Cold

by eternalscout



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalscout/pseuds/eternalscout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos experiences his first Snow Day in Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was requested by [carry-on-wayward-sammy](http://carry-on-wayward-sammy.tumblr.com/) who wanted winter in Night Vale.
> 
> The title comes from Crying Lightning by the Arctic Monkeys.

It was still too early for Cecil's show, but Carlos turned on the radio anyway. Before he came to Night Vale, he'd preferred working in silence. Truthfully, that hadn’t changed until his experience at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. It had been his first time listening to the show. He couldn’t very well have avoided it when it was being projected over the speakers instead of music. Hearing Cecil now didn’t take him back to that moment, at least not in the way he’d expected. Carlos had become an avid listener since then and every day the knot in his chest that the experience had left behind, more than likely some variant of PTSD if he wanted to be technical, grew a little looser.

He wasn’t overly familiar with the programming that proceeded Cecil’s show, but he was fairly certain static wasn’t on the station’s track list. Of course one never knew in Night Vale. He let it continue on for a few minutes, but when Cecil’s program didn’t start on time, he began to worry.

Carlos set the sponge he’d been washing dishes with down in the sink and wiped his hands on a towel. He dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Cecil’s number, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the photo Cecil had attached to it. At least it was a kissy face instead of one of the more risqué photos that had somehow found their way onto Carlos’s phone. He got enough flack from his coworkers as it was due to his dating the Voice of Night Vale.

He hit the call button and put the phone to his ear, drifting toward the windows at the front of his home. He drew back the curtains, frowning when the street beyond was uncharacteristically empty. The few times he recalled that happening included Street Cleaning Day and the incident with the wheat and wheat by-products. Nothing put Carlos more on edge than when the citizens of Night Vale panicked.

“Carlos?”

Relief flooded through him at the all too familiar voice on the line. “Cecil.”

“Are you calling for personal reasons?”

“I am. Why aren’t you on the radio? Is everything all right?”

“ _Carlos_. You said you listened to my show yesterday.”

“I did,” he insisted, letting the curtain fall closed again. He made a slow circle around his sparsely furnished living room. Had he missed something important?

“Did you hear the weather?”

“I did.” Not that it ever helped. Every time he felt close to cracking it, he was thrown a curveball.

“Then you should know today is a _Snow Day_.”

He frowned, making his way back to the window. He took a second look, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Nor was there any snow on the ground. Even if the grass and trees looked oddly…compressed. “Doesn’t there have to be snow for that?”

Cecil sighed heavily into the phone. “Carlos, sometimes I worry about you. The snow is _invisible_.”

Of course it was. Invisible corn, invisible pie. Why not invisible snow too?

“Ah. Silly of me.”

“It’s all right. I’ll forgive you this one time,” Cecil purred.

Carlos’s thoughts immediately turned to the other photos on his phone. He quickly distracted himself by opening his front door and stepping outside. He sucked in a sharp breath at the frigid temperature and frowned in the direction of the sun shining cheerily above. 

Now that he was paying attention, he could see the shadows the apparently equally invisible snow clouds left on the ground. He groped at the railing of his porch, jerking his hand back when it came into contact with something cold and wet.

“Night Vale shuts down for snow days?”

“Of course. It’s not safe to walk or drive in weather like this. Someone could get hurt.”

Carlos nodded absently as he tried to scoop some of the snow on his railing into his hand. It still packed like snow and he could feel its weight even if he couldn’t see it. “Is that why you wanted to come over last night?”

“It could be. But someone was working late.”

“I’m not working now.”

“It’s dangerous out, Carlos.”

“Why? You don’t live that far. Do I need to be on the lookout for snow plows or something?”

Cecil gasped. “Carlos! They might _hear_ you!”

Carlos filed that bit of information away to worry about later. “I’ll be there soon, all right?”

“No, this is your first experience with snow. It’s probably safer for me to come to you.”

“It’s not my first experience with…” He trailed off. “Fine. Have you already eaten lunch?”

“I was just about to get started on it.”

He winced at the thought. Cecil was many things, but a chef wasn’t one of them. “I’ll make something for us to eat. It should be ready by the time you get here.”

“Thank you, Carlos,” Cecil offered just before the line went dead.

Carlos tucked the phone into his pocket and headed back inside and to the kitchen. He turned off the radio and finished the dishes before he set to making Albondigas soup. He wasn’t entirely certain whether or not Cecil would like it, but he’d been open to trying similar recipes in the past. He got the soup base simmering in one pot and then set to making the meatballs that gave the soup its name, making certain he didn’t forget to add the mint leaves to them. His sister never missed a chance to remind him of the one time he had left them out.

Cecil took a little longer than he’d expected, but that was fine. The whole house smelled of the soup by the time Carlos heard him knock. He answered the front door, coming up short when he saw him standing there on the porch.

Cecil was hardly recognizable under all of the layers. The topmost coat was purple and padded and the fur around the hood was of an unknown origin. He had a yellow scarf underneath, wrapping around his face and leaving only his gray eyes visible. He wore boots long enough to vanish beneath the long coat’s hem. Genuine snowshoes were attached to them.

Carlos stepped back to let him inside, closing the door behind him and watching as Cecil carefully rid himself of his many layers. The instant they had all been set in one of Carlos’s chairs, Cecil’s arms were wrapped tightly around him.

“It’s _awful_ outside.”

“It’s not so bad,” Carlos said, absently rubbing his back. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving!”

Carlos steered him to the kitchen, long since accustomed to Cecil’s habit of clinging whenever they were in the same room. Cecil released him long enough to take the bowl of soup he offered before he led Carlos back to the living room, nearly sitting in his lap when they reached the couch. He took a dainty bite and Carlos watched, waiting.

“What do you think?”

“It’s…different,” Cecil admitted. “But good. Is this another of your grandmother’s recipes?”

“It is. I’m glad you like it.”

Cecil smiled back at him, quickly finishing his bowl off before he wrapped his arms back around him, resting his head on his shoulder. “You won’t make me go back out there, will you?”

Carlos snorted faintly. “Is this your way of asking if you can stay here tonight?”

Cecil leaned up, pressing their lips lightly together. “It could be.”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Carlos! The snow plows! The snow! The _cold_!”

“Well, when you put it that way…” He drew Cecil closer, wrapping his arms around him and tugging him down to lay with him on the couch.

“We could stay like this,” Cecil offered. “Laying here and watching the snow.”

“Watching the invisible snow?”

“Or…”

“Or?”

Cecil’s lips were on his again in a kiss that left Carlos breathless. “I’m open to considering our options,” he answered.

Cecil smiled up at him as his hand crept beneath Carlos’s shirt.

The soup left in the pot wound up a little burnt, but Carlos couldn’t find it in himself to care with Cecil there to distract him.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not quite winter yet (at least for me), but I hope you enjoyed this nonetheless!
> 
> Also, if you're a tumblr addict (like me), you can find me at [therudesea.tumblr.com](http://therudesea.tumblr.com/).


End file.
